I've painted a sky just for you
With fractals of stars
Inspired by infinite growth
And increasing familiarity
That began under a star filled
Night that brought us love.

I write so free without constraint
Give me a frame to chain down
Ideas that are half formed and
I lose my inspiration there's just
No anticipation about what I might
Have to say when I'm locked in to
A context fitting your liking.

"All the guys always dream of Angelina Jolie"
she tells herself- "and she's usually in the ****..."
She's gonna thrive off that, that's where she'll get her drive.
"I can be as full of lust as their dreams," she thinks to herself-
Ignoring the guy down the block who tells her she's "got a doll of a body, but the face of a horse.
Except for her lips- any day of the week those would be sweet."

It's girls like her that make me sick, living and killing themselves off what the boys call sweet.
Just pucker up and try to make yourself look jolly-
if you offer him enough of a taste- he'll forget your voice is hoarse
from all the smoke you ****. It'll work even better if you don't talk at all and just get lewd.
"This will make him love me at last" she always tells herself-
But when he's got his fill all he really ever wants is to get away and drive.

It's funny the way it always goes, he drives
into her soon as soon as he makes her feel a little sweet,
then runs off soon as she looks more like herself
and the lures wear off. Funny how the morning after does that. Maybe the next guy, maybe a Joe or Lee,
might finally like her all around, even if she doesn't strut her wares ****.
But probably... actually, most likely, not, it usually always goes the same for ******

like her. So she'll just keep 'dolling' herself up as she hoards
away her list of mates. Maybe, though, the next one might take her on a nice drive.
Yeah, he'll take her somewhere nice and new.
"Don't feel so used," she thinks "see, this guy is truly sweet."
And she just hopes this Joe is nothing like Lee,
That last man who ****** her dry while she forgot herself.

Still, the rest of us just watch as she lets herself
go downhill, pretty typical, just like most other ******.
She really might stick with Joe,
for awhile anyways, but even if he cares for her, she'll be the one to drive
him away, why follow him up if she's still running down? She'll find the next one to sweet-
talk her into bed and into the draining ****.

Her story will always be the same- A new
den to sleep in with each new guy, she treats herself
to the good life she says, nothing wrong with that, while her partially sweet
looks keep falling farther back to being kicked by a horse.
And from my once close friend, I'll drive
further away, I'm too sick of her plump-lipped stories about what's-his-name? Joe or Lee...

Yeah, sure, she might show you her snapshot-nudes, she really thinks she's comparable to Angelina Jolie,
But she's not sure of herself at all, she's not all that sweet.
For all of her promises and lures, I promise, she's really just a dried up *****.

I am disappointed by the mirror.
It says everything is fine.
It says don’t worry.
Everything is fine.

But I can see it.
Unfocused it shows.
It’s there, hidden in the depths of
These dark pools surrounded by
Bright green rivers that are stirred,
Tormented by life.

I can see it there,
This ******* mirror
It’s so facetious,
Everything is fine.
Telling fascinating lies.

I wonder what would happen
If it cracks.
Would the rivers freeze
Could I stand the shards
Piercing out and full of truth.
Would everything be fine then

I want to collide with this
****** up manifestation.
I want it to shatter and prove
If everything is fine.
If it weren’t so terrifying
I would.

You know those houses built over cliffs? Top halves built on stable ground, then wrapped over the edge to hang over oblivion- held up by the thickest, strongest, most trustworthy beams for an undoubtable support?

Replace the house with the "weight of the world," fill it with "emotional baggage," and nickname the whole thing as "the one who always gets away." Last but not least, those beams that hold it all together, that act as the anchor between the world and demolition? Make those dowel rods that we'll call faith, held together with what might be masking tape. They tremble with what we'll point out as fear.

This picture haunts my dreams, and I'm sure that it shows sometimes, but what I can see if I inspect real close is a strengthening faith. The broad  support of your love is being nailed in beside my growing faith, the nails are of trust replacing the worn through bits of tape and giving fear no place. Everyday it builds stronger.

I'm replacing misconceptions with what I know as truth, I'm not the one who always gets away, I've always been pushed or thrown away, and all I've got as my foundation now is hope that the same won't happen again. While strength is building with more faith every day in new beginnings, in you, truth is cleaning house. Useless baggage thrown out, and a remodel to bring life back to what was dilapidated. How ironic and beautiful that the more strength is built up, the lighter I'm becoming.

This is misplaced guilt
watching you spiral,
I have to remind myself
it's not my fault.

I can't bring myself
to care the same again,
We were never meant
to last as long as we did.

Self destruction is
all too familiar.
I wouldn't wish it on anybody,
it's not your fault.

I'll always wish you
the best happiness.
You know a girl like me,
I was never meant to be  yours.

How these tables have turned,
there's somebody that will
Be there like you once were.
But I won't be at fault.

I choose to follow my
heart to bliss,
Nothing will stop me
from this.

I hate to say it,
but I hope you can
Follow your chest.
You know you've got it
For a reason.

There are times that I realize I am
Passion embodied behind a face that
Trembles with restlessness and
Passive Aggressive contemplation
About everything life could be if only
I was able to make it like I make everything else

The thing about life however is that there
Are Other People involved and
The thing about this (too) much Passion is that
It scares Other People but
I guess that explains the Passive Aggression
And why I'm scared to bare it all.

Have I become her?
that untouchable sultry lady
whose dress flows in the wind
wisps of blue that match the
color of the sun in her hair.

Flyaways are held in place
a sprayed on gentle hold,
if you stand closer maybe you'll
breathe in the scent of Dior,
or a knockoff, it's your call.
Not to mention, the taste of
ash on my lips and kiss.

But she and I, we're, oh, so different.
She is always
unsure
insecure
lost.
And I've found myself
and I'd never try to be cute
and with you.
I respect myself too much.

We are hell in
Little black dresses and
**** me heels.
Dramatic made up faces
Enhancing lures to hook
You, the next victim of
A sultry assault.
We know what you want,
But our hearts are iced.
We are created to torture.

My swing
        tire swing
Island of joy in a melting land

Swing, swing
        my tire swing
Carry all away from this wasted land

My swing
        I tire, swing
My only refuge, barren land

Ever been posed a question
that cannot be answered?
Either way you try to respond
your stomach twists and turns
knots of nausea, so much so that
you can't even touch an answer.
But I guess in a way,
that in itself is the answer.

the bind of leather
the drip of wax
the snap of the whip
and the bite of chain
around my neck.

I have always yearned for this,
the one who knows just how to
control my body and
make me submit.

But you've given me just a taste.
One night where you entranced my
each and every nerve.
And ever since, We've been tame and loving,
but I long for another night like the first.

So I tempt and tease with
harmless disobedience.
Just to feel your hands at my throat
and my back ****** against the wall
With the quietest throaty whisper
a glimpse of the dark man that
I long to share this bed with again.

Your friend asked me what my tattoo meant
And I had already had a bit to drink so
I wasn't shy when I turned around and explained.
Your eyes had me from that point on, they're amazing
You know, I was mesmerized from the start.

Sure details might be blurred but I will always remember
The way we talked about everything and nothing like
We weren't even strangers and every topic was up for grabs.
We drank and smoked, talked and drank some more until
I wanted to dance with you, I've got this love for music that
Makes me move and alcohol only makes that more intense.

We went inside and the music and bodies moving around us
Became this moment that we couldn't help but get caught up in.
Bodies swaying together against each other and I was swept away,
Lips introduced to each other and hands discovering curves and lines.
We parted that night, filled with the thrill of meeting someone new,
Like there was this idea that maybe we could get to know who we were.

The next night when we sat in the dark out on your roof,
Looking at stars and talking more about anything and everything else,
I felt myself drawn to you, not just the lean in closer and
lay my head on your shoulder kind either. Really drawn to you.
In that way that can scare somebody like me, so obviously I tried to run off.

I've got wings as you found out, it wasn't a joke when I warned I can be flighty.
I get scared easy, and confrontation makes me sick, I don't want to run but I resort to it.
But how perfect that you didn't let me get away, they call it the thrill of the chase I guess,
But through it all- every part of me is happy that I can hold your hand and smile into those
Amazing eyes. I get to kiss you in the morning and hold you at night, and
Even if we blur the details when asked about how we met, I'm glad that together
We've taken hold of that idea that we can get to know who we are.

I spend hours with a killer
Watching him claim murderers' blood
Avenging the light of day
Against the in-convictable life-takers

He studies the work of others
Under the guise of a friend
a mask, hollow, unfeeling
Lost and uncommitted
He simply wanders and avoids
Calculating.

But I am wasting away the hours
Half watching and learning
Enjoying.
Learning.

He travels his past,
I mine.
Drifting
While the rain calls me away,
Tap tap tapping
My memories call me away,
Calling and calling, pulling...

I am drifting
Rain and memories
Traveling through love and blood
I am drifting,

But not to sleep...

He pulls away and she is
Ragged, racked for breath
Ripped red shades as he
Stole away the tape so
Flawlessly placed on her
Painted wet lips now
Trembling mascara making
Marks through to her soul
Flowing down her face into
The pit of hell that's past her
Heart between her legs lying
Lost in the bed broken and
Bent beyond desires don't deny it
He says she wanted every moment of
Misery mistaken in the throes of
Taken Passion.

It's pure joy, this flower for a child in a covert land
     Beautiful and growing in this distraught, connected world
It's changing its message to the child, as its colors turn inside-out.

     A blurred bud, mocking with its pretense,
All the young one hears, is a council of forgotten remembrances.

     This flower of hope, as empty as a hospital bed.

Not one. Two; one-two-one one-two-one; Fever.
     Dancing in the fire light.
There is nothing left here but fear in comfort and fever.

     Twisting symbols of dancing red
Blending with blues
     Around and into stoic and barren, steadfast gold.

Dancing red comforts the child's disdain for fear.

     The young child sees the heart in this rose,
Remembers growing fond of the pretense.
     Watches as the red goes white, mystery gone.

Fever, gone.

lately, much more and
I feel ill again
Not a cold
Or a flu not
Physical sickness
More darkness
Than anything
I don't like to fight it
Rather control it but
Control is half the problem.
I know it's wrong
that I'm healthy
By measurable
Medical standards
But I want to be less.

I'd rather not pass
Sustenance unwanted
through lips that resist
When the result loads
Loathing and disgust.
So cut back little by
Little, still isn't enough,
still too much...
Maybe I'll just go
Run another mile.

There is something so pure
In being content with lying
Entwined with another
Doing nothing more than
Memorizing the lines and marks
Upon their skin and matching
Your breaths to theirs as you
Realize you could be happy.

There are songs up your sleeve
Lines of your soul like a road map of
How you feel put into poetry
And I'd love to feel how the chords hum
When they are strummed over me

"My sweet baby girl."
And my heart jumps
A smile touches my lips
Just before they touch yours
Where we can taste the
Subtle edges of love
Held deeper than words express.

Six months ago I sat on
your roof, staring at stars
and tying together heart
Strings that have been
played by other hands,
That have played out
different songs-

But our hearts seem to
Play this song that strikes
as familiar, one you think-
Maybe I've heard this
Years before, but
It's different. More...
In tune and beautiful,
Sure the melody may have
been dropped, or some
Notes met with discord,
but when has anything
ever been perfect without
A couple rewrites and a
Practice of learning what
Should be and how?

Six months ago I felt a
Love for this new song,
It caught in my mind,
Brought skips to a heart
That usually keeps the beat
And now I've got this equal
Love for the music as I do
for the one beside me,
Writing it with me.

The truth ran free-
                       I'm sorry,
I'm not saying we'll meet again

Never dream of the edge of death-
                       I'll always forget regretting the story.
My life lives me.

I have no words to write
My pen pulls like the ocean
Revealing how I feel
Like writing in the sand

What I would tell you
Things you should know
Things I don't know how to say

I wish you could know
I wish I could tell
More than my words could ever show

But I'll give you my pen
And maybe - - just maybe
Your words could speak to mine

Even if they lack that echoing call
I would still hope
That you could hear
And understand

But I have no words to write
And my pen pulls like the ocean
It reveals the words to tell how I feel,
But takes them all back, like writing in the sand.

How could I be cold when
I'm on fire with passion
It burns through life to char
What doesn't belong.
Turns it to ash so it will
blow away in the wind-
Leaving in the absences
space to flourish for
Everything that's right.
Vibrant with new life
What's left to grow,
Determined to let the
Best in me represent
The rest of me.

Scratch that.

I am vacant as a whole.
Emptied and used up,
bits of me carved out
and scattered all around in meaningless disarray.
I feel like I'm grasping at the edges,
to hold it all together in fear that
it'll all
cave
in.

That I'll prove to be a black hole
and wreak nothing but havoc.

But isn't that what I'm already doing?
Holding the edges together while
blindly pulling in whatever feels like it
just might fill the void...

When all I really want is all that's been
scattered to be replaced.
I don't want to just fill
emptiness.
I want to be whole.

My anonymity and self exposition
Fill a hole that has been dug out
Shoveled and scraped
I'm a nobody girl
Who bares all with a faceless nameless body
Of curvatures and temptation
They don't know the girl
But they love the body
And it helps me feel whole
All the while I'm your nobody girl
And you don't even know.

There is a girl who always brings a smile to your face
There is a girl who warms the hearts of everybody around
There is a girl who especially wants to warm your heart
There is a girl who looks into your eyes with love
There is a girl who smiles even when she is sad and it can't touch her eyes
There is a girl who holds the weight of the world but
There is a girl who always has strength to hope for new futures
There is a girl who would go anywhere and do anything for you
There is a girl who loves to stand in the ocean and gaze at the setting sun
There is a girl who wants to travel the world wherever it takes her
There is a girl who wants to do all of this with you
There is a girl who will always carry burdens that are too close to let go
There is a girl who is unsure of so much but she is so sure of you
There is a girl who wants to be the one who holds your hand
There is a girl who hopes you realize
There is a girl who wants to be her

Driving East
Sun setting at my back
Lyrics pushing at my ears
with a chill in the air
I think of home.
Sometimes I feel lost, but I know
exactly where I am
It always feels wrong when
the sun sets to my back
And I'm going the other way.

We've all got them.
from passion and hatred,
Violence or lust.
They are left as a guide
through the past and present,
Some times read to tell the future,
some say things we never want to hear.

Awake all night
Might as well be
Asleep when I'm
Part of the day
Cold with the realizations of
All my mistakes.

Entwine your hand with mine.
We'll take this world on.

As sweet swimming space
Pass my loving gaze
Catch your heart and race
Alas your hazed maze

With this heart in hand
Keep steady and fair
When you cross this land
Please, oh, please, take care

Stumbling blind we are
Fatal gripping pace
Never mind the hour
Forget this, don't race

Go slowly forward
walk - love - evermore

Excuse me while I scream this out
It builds in the back of my throat
Unnamed it tears me apart
I will myself to spit it out
Welling up and roiling with emotion
This is an odd mix of fear and passion and love
I've given all of it so freely before
But it's fear that stops me now
It builds in the back of my throat
Please excuse me as I scream this out.

I can't tell you whether it's the music
That plays and I think of you
Or it's this weather
That always brings me down

Back down to the lowest
Places in my heart that make
My mind think of everything I've lost
Everything I want in my world
That I don't have

But whatever it is I am struggling
Against the tears that well in my eyes
Not to pick up the phone and
Hear your voice, the voice
That was there for me through so much.

But I can't tell you whether it's
The music or this weather
That is causing me to fall down
Break down and cry again
All I know is that I'm lost

Happy and so very sad
At the same time
I am lost and feel like
I am losing my resolve.

Passion makes me tingle
my blood rushing with memories
Recent memories still filled with flame
So many firsts in a world where firsts
are so rare

I run my fingers over a bruise
And a scrape
So innocuous to anyone else
But my blood tingles with the memories
That only you and I share

Care about the past
Compare to any others
Wonder about anyone else
Worry about bones left over from
forgotten skeletons in closets

I am always
Mind, body, and soul yours
In love with everything you are
Contemplating forever
With you

I have always been a **** up
And a dreamer.

I've lost direction
Moss on both sides of the trees
I plead the way home